


Following You

by chooken



Series: Keeping You [10]
Category: Westlife
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottoming, Boys Kissing, Bubble Bath, Champagne, Cuddling & Snuggling, Diners, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Honeymoon, Hotel Sex, Hotels, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Marckian, Marcky, Married Couple, Married Sex, Parenthood, Pie, Polyamory, Rimming, Road Trips, Same-Sex Marriage, Shagging, Shameless Smut, Smut, Snogging, Spanking, Spit As Lube, Strawberries, Topping from the Bottom, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:57:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The honeymoon has been fantastic, but it's almost time to go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following You

“You gonna come for me?”  
  
Mark's breath was hot against Nicky's neck, the feel almost as torturous as the soft, goading voice, hoarse on his ear while fingers traced his navel, the other hand firm against his throat, holding him.

“Can't.” Nicky shook his head, wishing it wasn't true. He was hard again, which was against all logic. He'd come three times in four hours, coaxed to the edge by clever fingers and an evil tongue.

“I think you can.” Mark teased, fingers trailing down from his belly button to rake through the hair above his cock, tugging gently in a way that had Nicky arching without meaning to. It was just Mark. Sweet, hot, sexy, talented Mark, who knew every spot that was guaranteed to drive him mad with pleasure.

He didn't know how Mark had the energy. Though he had had a kip in the car that morning, looking flushed and relaxed after a big breakfast in that diner they'd passed not long after ten o'clock. It was beautiful. Pine trees on their left, the ocean on the right as they wound their way up the highway, Mark tilted back in his seat, feet up on the dashboard while Nicky tried to keep his eyes on the road instead of watching his husband sleep.

Then Mark had woken, yawned, stretched, and turned on the radio, feet tapping along to the music while they both sang along, the windows open, their hair ruffling in the ocean breeze, Mark beside him.

Six weeks. Six weeks they'd been doing this. Taking turns driving, stopping at hotels whenever they got tired or horny. Taking random detours to ridiculous 'tourist attractions' that more often than not turned out to be the world's biggest something. Nicky seriously doubted the validity of those claims, but it didn't really matter. Not with Mark holding his hand, staring up at a giant ball of yarn, or an enormous beer stein that looked like it had been bought at a garage sale.

And the food. Christ. Nicky had done his best, been warned in advance about American portion sizes, but it was the taste as well, that made him want to try every ridiculous sugary, creamy, greasy thing on the menu. They'd had to start splitting meals instead of getting their own, especially when they were sitting still in the car all day, their only real exercise getting out to wander along the occasional beach or run into the closest gas station for more supplies.

And the shagging, of course.

“Fuck...” Nicky arched again when he felt fingers slip into the crack of his arse, teasing. Tracing the edge, pressing for a moment, the pressure delicious. He felt raw and used, didn't think he could go again, but...

“I want to lick you open.” Mark growled, tonguing his ear. “Your arse is so fucking hot.”

“God, Mark...” He whimpered, feeling himself tremble under finger that slid down his thighs again, barely touching, the nerves in his legs leaping to get more contact. There was still a palm on his neck, fingers scraping his jaw while teeth scraped behind his ear. “God, I can't...”  
  
“Gonna make you come.” Mark whispered, his voice more like a promise than a suggestion. “Gonna open you up with my tongue. Wanna taste you. Want you to come while I lick you.”

“Jesus.” Nicky closed his eyes, struggling to focus long enough to draw breath. “I fucking love it when you talk like that.”

“I know.” Mark snickered, pulling back a little. “You want me to keep going?”

“Yeah.” Nicky admitted, keep his eyes closed when he felt Mark shift against him, the hardness pressed to his hip while a thigh hooked across his, Mark's hand creeping down the crease of his thigh. “I can't come again, though.”  
  
“You don't have a choice.” Mark rasped. Nicky moaned when teeth closed on his earlobe, tugging slightly. “So fucking pretty. You belong to me.”

“I do.” Nicky agreed. Mark was climbing up to lean over him, their bodies barely touching except for the weight of elbows sinking the mattress beside his shoulders, the puff of breath on his face. He shivered as the tip of a tongue slid down his jaw, just tickling. “Oh.” He muttered, biting his lip at the deep, throaty chuckle that seemed to travel from his ear right to his cock. “Fuck I want you.”  
  
“You said you couldn't.”  
  
“Don't care. Oh _Jesus_...” A finger had just breached him, making right for his prostate in a move that must have been some sort of witchcraft. It tickled him for a moment, pulled out, and then it was back, stroking him over and over, his toes curling so hard he thought his legs were going to cramp up for a second. He made a noise. Something totally embarrassing that might have been Mark's name. Kisses mouthed over his throat.

“Yes...” Mark encouraged, his voice low and dangerous against Nicky's skin. “Just like that. Fucking love feeling you like that.” Nicky opened his eyes, groaning when Mark looked up, his eyes dark and hungry, locking with his and peeling him open. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Oh god.” Nicky bit his lip, tossing his head back partly to avoid falling apart in that gaze, partly because Mark had just tickled his prostate again. “Oh god, Marky.” He tangled a hand in dark hair, the other grabbing onto the bedrail to ground himself. “Yes.”

“Yeah.” Mark agreed, nibbling his throat. “Come in me, Nix. Let me ride you. Own me. Take me so fucking deep...” He whimpered, and Nicky groaned when felt Mark grind against his thigh, hot and hard and wet. “Need it. Need you.”

Nicky nodded, grabbing onto Mark and rolling them over, laughing at the surprised yelp when he landed on top, the finger leaving him while Mark got his bearings. Nicky grabbed his wrists, pulled them above his head, held him. Mark bucked up, rubbing against him. Nicky looked down, taking in the sight of hard, weeping flesh.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, his eyes falling closed when Nicky reached down to caress him. Mark had only come twice that day, but Nicky was still sort of impressed. They'd been shagging constantly for over a month now and it was still this easy. Still just as simple as pulling over for some petrol just outside of town, still about an hour's drive from Washington, and having a hand slide up his thigh, Mark lean over and kiss his cheek, and whisper those six basic, obvious words in his ear.

_We need to find a hotel._

And they had. And fuck, the maid service was probably going to need to sterilise the whole floor after what they'd done in here. It wasn't a great hotel, was the first one they'd seen when they'd pulled off the highway. A minibar, a poky second-floor balcony, a bathroom where the shower and toilet were practically sharing the same space, and a bed. They'd fucked in a lot of these sorts of lodgings over the last six weeks, a far cry from the usual five star hotels they were used to. Not that Nicky cared. They'd fucked in plenty of nice places too. In penthouses, hot-tubs, on the floor of something that had been called the Honeymoon Suite, and Nicky had figured that had suited them well enough. Not that he'd really been looking at the room. Not when he'd climbed on top of Mark and sunk down on his cock, biting his lip against the sudden, unprepared stretch.

When Mark had rolled them over and fucked him, biting his shoulder and come so hard Nicky was surprised he hadn't ended up on the other side of the room. Fucked slow and deep in front of a fake fireplace, Mark's hands everywhere, his wedding ring shining in the light of the flames. Nicky trying to figure out how to get his breath back while he lay on a bed with a mirror above it in Vegas, the leopard print sheets really bringing out the hickeys on his arse.

But they'd been here since after lunch. It was late afternoon now, the sun starting to sink, the light catching the hair on the back of Mark's legs when Nicky turned him over on his front, knowing this wasn't Mark's thing. Appreciating that Mark wanted it from him anyway. Trusted him enough.

“So beautiful.” Nicky breathed, bending down to suck at the back of a long neck. They hadn't bothered to cut their hair since the wedding, and it was starting to get a little longer, brown locks starting to get unruly enough to curl in his husband's nape. Husband. Fuck. It was so all-encompassing. Lover, partner, best friend, all right there mixed up in something that Nicky finally had a name for. He slid his tongue down the bumpy ridge of a spine, feeling the slight softness in sweaty skin, testament to too much indulgence and not enough exercise. But fuck it, they were on honeymoon, and Nicky knew his jeans weren't fitting quite as well as they used to either. He nibbled at the small of Mark's back, enjoying the squish of slight lovehandles, pushing his hands under warm, thick thighs, and tugging him up onto his knees, opening him up, burying his face in a hot, inviting valley that tensed for a moment while Mark cried out, pushing back.

“Nix...” He moaned. Nicky pressed deeper, letting his tongue out to play with an entrance that puckered under his tongue. “Feels so fucking good.”

Nicky wanted to agree, but his mouth was otherwise occupied, sucking at clenching muscles, his tongue tracing the edge, his teeth scraping gently while he licked Mark open, felt him relax on his tongue, his cock twitching underneath him when Nicky reached up to hold it, feeling a pulse thrum through hard, bobbing flesh.

“In me.” Mark breathed, pushing back, so Nicky did, twisting his tongue until he felt Mark let him through. He was always so tight, so tense. It wasn't personal, Nicky knew. Mark just wasn't a bottom, and that was fine. He didn't mind, not when Mark was such a glorious top. Nicky could probably count on two hands the amount of times he'd taken Mark over the course of their relationship. It made it all the more sweet, though, when it happened. Like a treat. An occasional, unnecessary reminder that Mark loved him, that he was wanted and trusted and loved and...

He let a finger play over the entrance, edged the tip in slowly and felt Mark tense, then relax a little bit. Nicky bit his bum, worrying the soft, plump flesh with his teeth until he felt Mark laugh, then sucking blood to the surface. Knowing it was pointless marking someone when nobody would see it, loving it for that reason, knowing that nobody else would ever see it. That by the time they got home to Kian it would be gone, faded into Mark and become part of him again.

“Love your arse.” Nicky pushed in a little, felt Mark wriggle to accept it.

“Love you.” Mark replied, the finger entering easily enough for Nicky to try another one, sucking it into his mouth to wet it before pushing the two fingers in together. There was a soft, breathless whimper, and Nicky paused, feeling the sudden, reactionary squeeze.

“Tell me if...”  
  
“It's fine.” Mark said impatiently. He took a deep breath, then pushed back a little, Nicky caressing the small of his back to ease him through it. He was tight, but was relaxing slowly.

Nicky moved his fingers, feeling for...

“Oh...” Mark groaned, his head dropping into his folded arms. He pushed back, not the tiny, uncertain rocking from before, a full-body arch. “Oh fuck, right there.” He whimpered, knees bracing on the sheets. “Jesus, Nicky, I...”

“I've got you.” Nicky promised, taking the opportunity to add a third finger. Mark was hard, his cock red and weeping while Nicky stroked his prostate, listening to him moan. “Feel good?”

“Yes. Yeah...” He gasped, grinding back onto Nicky's finger. “I'd forgotten how... fuck. Fuck Nix...”

“You think you can come again?” Nicky teased, heard a breathless, hiccuping laugh in response.

“I think... oh Jesus.” Mark's hand came down, wrapping around his own erection and beginning to stroke. “Don't stop doing that.” He mumbled, his hand speeding up, fingers rolling at the head. Nicky laughed, ducking his head underneath to mouth tight, full balls, fingers still working the spot now that he'd found it. “God, that's... bloody hell.” He laughed brokenly, pushing back again. “Fuck me. Now. Fuck.”

“Not yet.” Mark was rushing, trying to get past the hesitation by charging headlong at the problem. He wasn't nearly stretched enough. Nicky could feel the tense energy running through him, knew it would hurt, not be fun for either of them.

“Please...”

“No. Relax. We've got loads of time.” He bit Mark's arse lightly, then climbed up alongside him, laying down and pulling Mark in to snuggle into his side, feeling an arm wrap around his waist.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Nicky kissed his forehead. “Just not in a rush.” He reached down, palming a soft, slightly hairy buttock, felt Mark wriggle under the touch. “I am so hopelessly in love with you.”

“I'm glad.” Mark kissed his shoulder, his hand trailing up to play with Nicky's nipples. “You don't want to fuck me?”

Nicky laughed. “I do. I really really do. Your arse is...” Wonderful, tight. God, he loved Mark's arse. One of his favourite things to do outside the bedroom was to find Mark doing something fairly innocuous, like the dishes, or making a cup of tea, and give it a good slap on the way past, just to feel it, hear the surprised yelp. But inside the bedroom... grabbing handfuls and yanking Mark into him, feeling sweat and skin against his palms. And then, occasionally, getting to feel it, the walls so tight and unused around his cock... “It's fine, though. You're not ready.”

“I am.” Big, beseeching eyes blinked up at him. Total puppy-dog. Mark was the master at it. Though Kian could put in a good effort when he really wanted something.

“Cute, but no.” Nicky pecked his nose. “Take it from someone who's done it a thousand times. I'm not going to hurt you, okay?”

“Okay.” Mark settled against his side, his eyes falling shut. He was definitely hard, was pressing into Nicky's hip, but it wasn't really a pressing issue. Nicky stroked his back, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach. “Why do you like it?”

“Why don't you?”

“Dunno. Just isn't...” Soft hair tickled his chin while Mark shook his head. “Like, I don't mind a finger, that feels good, and then when I'm in the moment I like feeling how good you feel. I like making you feel good. It's just never been my thing. It hurts a bit, yeah, but then I'm uncomfortable for days afterwards. Like, even just walking around. Or if I try to take a shit I feel just... raw and not good. It's hard to explain.”

“Then we don't have to do it.” He reached a finger under a stubbly chin, drawing Mark up for a kiss. “I don't want to have you sitting in the car all uncomfortable for days so I could get my rocks off for five minutes.” He rubbed their noses together, felt the guilty flush steal into Mark's cheeks. “You are so beautiful.”

“Sort of failing at being gay, though, aren't I?” Mark laughed slightly.

“I don't think so.” Nicky shook his head, kissing him again, trying to comfort him. They'd sort of had this conversation in the past, back at the beginning when they were figuring things out. He'd tried to fuck Mark one time, and gotten about halfway in before he was told tearfully to stop. So Nicky had, gathered him up, seen that Mark wasn't even remotely turned on any more, and stroked his back until they'd both fallen asleep. They'd tried it again a little later, to slightly better results, but it was fairly clear that it wasn't going to be their dynamic, and they'd gone back to Nicky being the bottom. “I think being gay just means you're into guys. Sexually, romantically, whatever. It doesn't mean you have to take it up the arse.”

“I feel a bit like I'm letting you down, though.”

“Definitely not.” Nicky bit his nose gently, worrying the skin until he could get Mark to laugh. “I honestly never think about it. It's not why I'm with you. Anyway, that's what I've got Kian for.”

“I like watching you fuck Kian.” Mark said shyly. “It's really hot. You look so happy. I wish I could give that to you.”

“You do, just differently. You have no idea how good you feel fucking me.” Nicky reached down to squeeze himself, the thought alone affecting him. “And you look like you love doing it, and that makes it even better.”

“Why do you like it?” Mark asked again.

“It's hard to explain.” Nicky admitted. “I guess it does hurt a bit, or it used to. Just at first. But then... I dunno. I relax into it. I feel so full and good, and you're there with me. And even when it's not you, even when it's Kian, or that one time it was both of you...” He paused, remembering. God, that had been amazing. It had hurt, that one, definitely, but the feeling of both of them, of Kian behind him, them both pushing fingers into him, then pushing him back and filling him up, stretching him wider than he thought he could ever take... “It's a good feeling.” He shrugged. “It's like trying to explain why I like fish fingers, and you don't. Or why you smoke and I don't like it. It's just one of those things.”

“I really should cut back.”  
  
“You should, but I'm not going to nag you on it.” Nicky shrugged. “You want to cut back, that's your business. I want you healthy and well, but you could get hit by a bus tomorrow and it won't matter how clean your lungs are.”

“True, yeah.” Mark turned over to rest his chin on Nicky's chest, looking up. “I love fucking you. You're delicious when you get going, and you look like you're in such a state when you get close, like you're totally lost.”

“I am, usually.” Nicky smiled. “Feels like I'm flying. You're in me and around me all at the same time. It's like being safe.” He stroked Mark's hair, caught a blue gaze that peered up at him under thick, dark lashes. “What's it like for you?”

“It's like... I get to remember that I own you. Which sounds possessive or creepy, I know, but...” He shook his head. “God, you're as tight as that first time I took you, and it's still just as good. Better, because we're better at it now, I think. But that first moment, when I push in and I see your whole face light up, and I feel how ready you are... it's like being accepted, or something. Like you want me to own you, and that's...

“Perfect.” Nicky finished. “So why are we trying to buck a trend?”

“Dunno. We've done just about everything else the last six weeks. Figured we'd tick all the boxes.”

“Boxes already ticked.” Nicky laughed, tugging him up so they were face to face, then rolling over to lay on top of him. “I married you, I got to spend time with you, I got to love you. That's all my boxes. If we hadn't had sex for the whole six weeks, it wouldn't change that.”

“It would have been a pretty short trip, then.”

“It would have.” Nicky snorted, leaning down to kiss his husband. “The sex has been pretty mind-blowing. God, I think I'm going to come for the fourth time in a day. When was the last time that happened?”

“You said you couldn't come again.” Mark teased. Nicky grinned, letting their lips touch again. A tongue came out to play with his, Mark's fingers stroking up his sides. Nicky moaned, feeling himself react the same way he always did when Mark touched him, his erection starting to come back after their conversation. Mark was hard against him, too, and Nicky reached down to play with it, letting his fingers curl naturally around the familiar curve of him.

“Fuck me.” Nicky murmured, knowing he was going to hurt later, once his body realised how used it was. Didn't care. Wanted it. Wanted that raw, ruined feeling while he leaned back in his seat and watched Mark drive. He felt open from before, still empty and needing it. “I want you.”

“You've got me.” Mark breathed, already pushing in when Nicky guided him into position. Nicky gasped, kissing him hard, feeling hoarse, panicked breaths fill his mouth when Mark trembled, his hands shaking on Nicky's hips. “So tight.”

“So good.” Nicky agreed. He sat up, adjusting against the feel. Mark's hands came up, and Nicky linked them with his, bracing himself while he began to ride, Mark's head tipping back into the pillow on a long, breathless moan. “Oh fuck, Mark...” He let go of one of the hands, felt it squeeze his thigh instead while he began to stroke himself. Mark's head came forward, eyes catching what he was doing. Stared, drinking in the movement of Nicky's hand on his own shaft. “Make me come again.” Nicky gasped, feeling Mark start to rock a little, his hips coming up to meet Nicky's movements.

“Nix...” Mark sat up, pulling Nicky's legs around his waist to keep the contact. Nicky kissed him hard, felt their chests press together. A hand slid between them, taking over the stroke. “So fucking good.”

“Yes...” Nicky bit his lip, closing his eyes and watching stars dance behind his eyelids. Mark was biting his shoulder now, hand moving hard on his length while Nicky rode him, the thrusts short and shallow in this position. He bent his knee up, trying to get a little more leverage, and felt it. Felt Mark hit the spot, over and over again. Twisted his fingers in Mark's hair, trying to ground himself. “Oh... yes. Mark. Fuck. Uh...”

“Come for me.” Mark murmured, breath hot against his ear. “Mine.”  
  
“Yours.” Nicky choked out. “I'm yours. I'm coming. I'm...”

Mark cried out, and in the haze of Nicky's own orgasm, he felt the rush, the delicious, perfect rush of Mark letting go, of holding him tight, shaking and grabbing him, probably leaving bruises, kissing him hard, wrapping around him while Nicky lost himself, clinging to Mark to keep himself grounded against the overwhelming ecstatic agony gripping him, wrenching him apart.

When he opened his eyes, it was to a sweaty, heaving, gorgeous boy who was panting into his neck, eyes squeezed shut. Nicky stroked his hair, felt him giggle against Nicky's heaving chest.

“Fuck.” Mark breathed. Nicky laughed, tugging his face up so they could kiss, felt slack lips stumble against his.

“Love you.” Nicky murmured. Felt Mark nod and hold him tight.

 

*

 

“I kissed a girl and I liked it...”

“Did you?” Nicky laughed, glancing over at his partner, who was happily singing along to the radio. They'd heard this song about a thousand times over the course of their trip, though Nicky was just happy it wasn't Chris Brown or Flo Rida again. It was so weird listening to American radio. He liked their music well enough, but it all felt so... he didn't even know the word. Crass, in a totally naïve, self-absorbed kind of way that was sort of adorable. The DJs were dickheads, as well. He thought he was maybe starting to miss Ireland a bit.

“Not recently, no.” Mark laughed. “Unless you count me mam.”

“You like kissing your mam?”

“Shut up. Gross.” Mark stuck his tongue out. He peered at the road. It was getting dark now. They'd spent far too much time in that room just outside the state line, shagging and sleeping. Now Nicky was wide awake, watching Mark drive and eating peanuts from a bag he'd found under the backseat. He pulled out his phone to check his emails, dusting his hands so he didn't get salt all over the screen.

“Oh, shit!”

“What?”

Nicky turned the phone so Mark could see the screen.

“Shane's a dad again!”

“No way! Wait!” Mark glanced around to make sure there were no cars coming up on his side (driving on the right was so weird) and pulled into the side, finding a clear spot near a sign for gas, food, and lodging. “Picture?”

“Yeah.” Nicky opened the attachment, and they both leaned over it, waiting for it to load.

“Aww...” It was gorgeous. Shane giving one of those broad, silly smiles, looking down at a tiny blue bundle that appeared to be mostly squished up eyes and a yawning mouth while Gillian leant her head on his shoulder, her eyes exhausted. “When did that happen?”

“About two hours ago.” Nicky scrolled through the email. It was brief, had obviously been sent out quickly to about thirty different people, judging from the list of names pasted into the top. “Patrick Michael.”

Mark laughed. “Wait, so we've got Nicole, and now the second one's got my middle names?” Nicky snorted, beginning to scroll through his other emails. “Seriously, is he obsessed with us or something?”

“Who wouldn't be?” Nicky leaned over, taking the opportunity to kiss Mark while they were stopped. “I'm obsessed with you.”

“Stalker.”

“He'll call the third one Francis Kian Filan or something. Or call it after himself.”

“Or just cut to the chase and call it Life West Filan.” Mark laughed, his fingers reaching between the seats to stroke the back of Nicky's hand. “Celebratory sex?”

“No. I really can't come again.” Nicky shook his head. “Honestly. I'll die. There's nothing left.” He caught Mark's lips, turning his hand over to link their fingers together. The kiss deepened, and for a moment Nicky almost considered it, right here on the side of the road.

“WOOOO!” He jumped as the car rocked, another one whizzing past them, too close. He looked up, watching a blue station wagon speed away, two teenage girls leaning out the window making obscene gestures and hollering at them. “HIT THAT!” One yelled.

Mark laughed, pulling away as the car disappeared around the curve in the highway, the honking trailing away into the distance. He turned the ignition, manoeuvring them back out on the road. There were signs coming up, exits into various places. “Where are we going?”

“Erm...” Nicky peered at the map. “Well, there's a bunch of parks, nature reserves...” Mark shook his head. They'd done lots of them early on, and it had been really nice. Mark liked them, he was a country boy at heart, but they'd seen enough of them already, and after fucking against a tree in one they'd stopped at in California, there wasn't much else they could really offer. “Laser tag...” Mark shook his head. “Apparently Seattle has a wall that's covered in gum.”

“What, like chewing gum?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds disgusting.” Mark laughed. “We'll need to see that.”

“Definitely.” Nicky agreed. “Nothing on the way, though. We're about twenty minutes out from the city. Want to head in, try to find a hotel?”

“We can do that.” Mark nodded, swinging into the correct lane. Nicky went back to his phone, scrolling through the rest of his inbox. “Anything from Kian?”

“No.” Nicky shook his head. Things had been surprisingly quiet on that front. There'd been a couple of quick ones, one to tell them he was headed for Fiji to surf, then another about two weeks later to let them know he was back, and to ask how things were going. Then another a few days ago to say he was on his way to Cape Town for a couple of weeks and he hoped the honeymoon was going well. Nicky had tried to engage him in conversation at the beginning, send emails back and forth, but it had petered out fairly quickly. He didn't think anything was wrong, exactly, Kian seemed quite cheerful, but it was strange anyway, not having that contact.

Maybe he was trying to give them space or something. Nicky wouldn't have been surprised. It was like him, to step back and try to be the good guy. He'd done it a bit when they'd started to live together, gone out for a few days at a time and stayed in a hotel when he thought he was getting in their way, but they'd pretty quickly reassured him that wasn't at all the case, and he'd stopped doing it, except for on occasion when he'd maybe go out for a night with friends and let them have a bit of a date night. Which was fine. It was nice, to know that Kian was looking out for them, even if it was unnecessary. Nicky had known him for over a decade, Mark even longer, and he was their best friend. They saw him every day. They were comfortable.

“I miss Kian.” Nicky said quietly. He'd been thinking about it for a bit, tried not to let it get to him. And it hadn't, really. He'd been quite easily distracted by Mark, by doing wonderful, stupid things together, wrapped up in each other's company. It hadn't felt like something was missing – he certainly didn't need Kian to love Mark – but there was still an empty spot next to them, made even more obvious by the lack of contact.

“I know. I do too.” A hand squeezed his thigh, then returned quickly to the wheel. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I'm not pining or anything. I love you. I've loved doing this with you.”

“But?”

“It's not a but.” Nicky shook his head. “It'll just be really nice to see him again.”

“I bet he's having fun surfing though.” Mark paused, glancing over at Nicky. “You think he's shagging other people?”

“I don't know.” Nicky said honestly, playing idly with his phone. He started flicking through photos of the holiday, smirking when he saw one of the two of them at Disneyland hugging a quite convincing Jafar, Mark with Mickey Mouse ears on. “Do you?” He got a non-committal headshake in reply, and turned back to his phone, flicking through a few pointless sunset shots. His photos were all fairly boring. Mark had bought a nice camera at the airport, though, and Nicky was looking forward to seeing how those would turn out. He'd been clicking away at bloody everything since they'd gotten here. “I want to say no, but...”

“I do too.” Mark nodded. “But we've been off shagging each other nearly to death for over a month, and he's been out on his own. In other countries, too. We've hardly heard from him...”  
  
“Little bird, flying away from the nest?” Nicky suggested. Mark laughed. They were starting to enter the city now, the buildings suddenly walling in around them.

“Could be. Look for a hotel.”

“Okay.” Nicky peered out the window, looking for familiar signs. “Will you be upset if he's shagging other people?”

“I'm not sure. I think I'll be a bit jealous, but at the same time I wouldn't blame him. I wouldn't be happy about it, though. I suppose it depends.”

“On what?”

“On if he's just fucking, or if it's something more.”

“Which one would upset you more?”  
  
“I honestly don't know.” He paused, pointing at a large building looming up on their right. “Marriott?”

“Yeah, okay.” Nicky nodded. Mark turned, pulling into the parking lot. They got out, the waterfront behind them, and Nicky stretched against the stiffness that had settled into his joints, the slight soreness from their rather athletic pitstop in that shitty hotel a few hours before.

Mark went in to see if they had a room, and Nicky got the bags out. They didn't actually have that much, all things considered. A few pairs of jeans each, a couple of nicer trousers and shirts in case they went out for dinner, a jacket or two, and a whole lot of t-shirts. They did laundry where they could, and Nicky had picked up a few extra things on the way when they'd been anywhere with shopping. But between sitting in the car and all the shagging, they really hadn't needed much in the way of clothes.

They got a room, went upstairs, dumped their stuff in the suite, then went off to find dinner. It was nice, sitting in a restaurant on the waterfront over candlelight, eating proper meals instead of diner food and whatever came in a packet and cost a dollar at the gas station. Nicky stole food from Mark's plate, and Mark stole it back. They emptied two bottles of wine, then walked back to the hotel, Mark's arm around his shoulders against the slightly chilly breeze, their footsteps a little unsteady with alcohol, Nicky's meal sitting happily and heavily in his stomach.

Then bed, tucking into soft, warm blankets and feeling gentle fingers stroke his spine.

“Love you.” Mark mumbled. Nicky echoed it, drifting into the warmth of his embrace.

 

*

 

It was interesting, how far having an Irish accent would get you. Nicky had noticed it more in small towns, where middle-aged women would coo over the adorable gay couple with the cute accents, but it seemed to work a charm in the city as well, where all it seemed to take was them holding hands in a booth, a couple of pleases and thank yous, and suddenly their waitress was extremely polite and helpful, and their food was hot on the table faster than should have been possible. He could see her now, talking to one of the other servers and looking over like she wanted to eat them.

“The waitress is in love with you.” Mark whispered. Nicky grinned, beginning to cut his bacon into more manageable pieces. He'd gotten the kids' breakfast, but it still looked huge. Mark had just gotten apple pie. He'd asked for half a slice. If that was half, Nicky would have been terrified to see the whole piece. There were two scoops of ice-cream as well.

“She's in love with you.” Nicky countered, reaching under the table to stroke Mark's shin with his foot. “She's got good taste.”

“God, if I keep eating like this, nobody will love me.” Mark rested his cheek in his hand, staring forlornly at the enormous wedge of pastry. “We'll get back and they'll have to give us two stools each, and we won't be able to stand up for the key change.”

“What's this we?” Nicky poked him with his fork. “I haven't gained a pound.” He patted his stomach, feeling it bulge out further than he was used to, and made a mental note to hit the gym the moment they were back.

“Good on you.” Mark raised an eyebrow. “I fucking love your arse at the moment, though.”

“Yeah?” Nicky swallowed, feeling eyes crawl up his body, hungry for something other than pie. “You um...” He trailed off, caught by the way Mark was licking his lips.

“It's so fucking sexy.” He lowered his voice, leaning in. “I'd like to spank you when we get back to the hotel. Until it's so red I can see my hand on it. Grab a handful of your arse and fuck it until you scream.”

Nicky swallowed again, his mouth wet all of a sudden. “Um.” He wiped his lips, looking down at his barely-touched breakfast. Mark leaned back, shaving a tiny piece of pastry and apple away from the pie, sliding it through the melting icecream. He popped it in his mouth, chewed slowly, then swallowed, a smirk crossing his lips.

“Tastes good.

“Yeah.” Nicky wiped his mouth again, glancing at the waitress. “I'm not hungry any more.”

“That's a shame.” Mark said quietly. “Do you feel alright?”

“I think I need to go back to the hotel.” Nicky said, whimpering when he felt a foot slide up his leg. He was glad there was a table cloth. “Go to bed for a bit.”

“I think that'd be a good idea.” Mark pushed the pie away, reaching into his wallet. He threw a couple of notes on the table, looked up at Nicky. “Until you feel better.”

The waitress stared at them on the way out.

 

*

 

“Like that?”

“Oh fuck, yes.” Nicky writhed, laid over Mark's lap while the younger man sat on the bed, Nicky's arse in the air, hot from the solid, torturous smacks. “Please...”

“So fucking sexy.” Mark breathed. Nicky whimpered as a tongue stroked the burning flesh of his right cheek, just the tip, tracing delicately around the edge of a handprint that Nicky could feel without seeing. Teeth lined up over the crack of his arse, biting in, then scraping out over the abused area. Nicky twisted, trying to get contact with something, his cock twitching underneath him while Mark moaned, licking up towards his hip. “Again?”

Nicky nodded, grunted when he felt another sharp smack. Then another, the pain blazing into pleasure when Mark reached underneath, fingers rolling Nicky's balls, playing them gently. Nicky whimpered, trying to find something to push against.

They didn't do this often, not like this. A bit of a smack in between thrusts when they were in the mood, a slap when they were fucking hard, but this... this intentional torture, Nicky over Mark's knees and feeling the focus, the hard, hot attention of skin on skin, of Mark's eyes on him, it was intoxicating. A rare treat that he always forgot he wanted until he was given it.

“Love your arse.” Mark groaned, tugging Nicky up so the older boy was on all fours, his elbows braced beside Mark's thighs. A hand palmed his arse, grabbing a solid, aching handful. Then that tongue was back, tracing around the shape of Mark's fingers, tickling and soothing at the same time. A finger pressed into him, diverting attention from the spreading pain in his cheek, the pressure sudden and direct by comparison. Nicky whimpered, hanging his head and looking underneath himself to focus on the wonderful bulge tenting Mark's boxers. He reached through, wanting to caress it.

“Ah!” He cried when Mark's free hand came back down again, the other still twisting inside him, confusing his senses. Again, the finger making for his prostate, stroking it in time with short, hard slaps. He was impossibly hard, dripping onto Mark's lap, unable to help himself. “Stop, I'm gonna come...” He felt Mark pause.

“You want me to stop?” He said quietly. Nicky bit his lip, feeling cool air soothe his reddened skin when Mark blew gently on it. He swore, looking over his shoulder at dark, hooded eyes, gaping, damp lips. A tongue came out, wetting them further, and Nicky groaned, pushing back, then off, climbing up to straddle Mark's lap, pushing down his boxers, and guiding him in with a hand he quickly spat in to ease the way, feeling his abused skin come into contact with Mark's thigh as his husband kissed him hard.

Afterwards, he lay in the bath while Mark fed him strawberries he'd ordered from room service to compensate for the breakfast they hadn't eaten. He sighed happily, feeling the warm water soothe mistreated skin.

“Open.”

Nicky did, closing his eyes at the tang of fruit on his tongue, looking up at the boy sat beside the bath. He was on a low chair he'd dragged in, his legs thrown over the arm and reclining with a glass of the champagne he'd ordered with the strawberries. Nicky reached for his own glass, feeling sweetness and bubbles fill him.

“Shall I assume we're not driving anywhere today?”

“I've already let them know we'll be staying another night.” Mark grinned, reaching into the water to hold Nicky's hand. “We've run out of coast, anyway, more or less. If we keep going another two hours we'll end up in Canada.”  
  
“Does that mean we have to go home?” Nicky asked, grabbing himself another strawberry from the bowl.

“No, not really. We have a whole year off, so not unless you want to.” Bare feet kicked the air slightly as Mark took another swallow of champagne. “Do you want to?”

Nicky shrugged. “We should go home and congratulate Shane. I want to see Patrick. I know he'll be bursting to show us. And Kian, of course. I miss the hell out of him.”  
  
“Still in South Africa for another week, though.” Mark said. “He won't be there even if we do go home. Still, it would be nice to sleep in our own bed for once.” He let go of Nicky's hand, shaking off the water, then reaching for another couple of strawberries. “I would like to see Patrick, though. He looks adorable.”

“You getting broody?”

“No, not really.” Mark shrugged. “Other people's babies, you know? They're cute until they start screaming or shitting, and then you get to hand them back.” He glanced at Nicky, eyes curious. “Why, are you?”

Nicky shrugged. He liked kids, he did, but knew it wasn't a real option, not where they were so busy all the time. It wasn't even legal, anyway. They weren't technically married at all, as far as the law was concerned. Still, Nicky had said the vows, had wanted the day and the moment and the ceremony of it, to say that Mark was his and he was Mark's, to have that thing that other couples had where they could walk out with rings on and say it was official.

“You gonna knock me up?” He teased, got an expectant smile in return. Shook his head. “No. It's not the right time, even if we could. Shane's run ragged with his, and I don't want that for us. I want to do it when we have time, and if we never have time, well...” He shrugged. “I have you. It'd be nice, but it's not something I need.” He leaned over, accepting a kiss that tasted of fruit and bubbles. “Who'd let us, anyway?”

“I don't know. We're famous, so that'd grease some wheels, surely.” Mark pursed his lips. “Might have to explain our live-in boyfriend, though.”

“Babysitter always on hand.”

“Yeah, true.” Mark chuckled, pinching another strawberry and popping it into Nicky's mouth, kissing him while he chewed it. “I like the idea of kids, you know? But I don't know I'd be jumping into getting one. A dog or something, maybe. Shit, we can't even keep a house-plant alive.”

“Kids are the same. Just chuck some water on it once a week.”

“Or just get a plastic one. Then we can't kill it.” Mark stretched, picking up his phone to play with it. Nicky sank down, letting his head go under the water and staring up at the ceiling as it blurred above the surface. He blew a stream of bubbles, watched them burst above his head, then came back up, rubbing his eyes. “Good swim?” Mark asked. Nicky nodded, reaching for his glass again. “Hey, got an email from Kian.”

“Ooh, what's it say?”

“It says...” He pressed some buttons, then smiled. “Dear Fuckheads...”

“That sounds like him.”

“Ha. Dear Fuckheads, Shane's a daddy! I'm still in Cape Town, but should be headed home to see him in a few days. Hope you're having an amazing honeymoon. I'll send you photos of me and the little guy (and the baby) when I see them. Love you both, be good. Kian.”

“That's it?”

“That's it. And a couple of kisses on the end.” Mark shrugged, putting the phone back down. “He's headed home.”

“I heard.” Nicky swirled his fingers through the water, watching tiny ripples spread the bubbles, then slosh against the porcelain side of the tub. “Want to go back?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Mark heaved himself out of the chair, heading for the bedroom.

“We don't have to go right this second.” Nicky called after him, heard a laugh. But soon enough Mark was back, the hotel phone in one hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was going to get us another thing of strawberries. And then, when you've got a bit more energy, I was going to eat them out of your arse.”

“Oh.” Nicky was already yanking the plug out. Mark smirked at his sudden enthusiasm, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder and opening a towel for Nicky to step into. Nicky let it be wrapped around him, then snuggled into Mark's arm, feeling a chin capture the top of his head while Mark very politely asked for some more strawberries. And would they like chocolate sauce? Yes, that sounded nice, thank you. Whipped cream? Why not. If they could bring the whole can, that would be grand. Oh, and could he but put through to reception, please, they needed to book in for two more nights. Nicky kissed him once he'd hung up the phone, feeling fingers stroke through his hair.

“We'll be busy another couple of days.” Mark murmured against his lips. “But then we can go home.”

Nicky nodded, kissing him again.

 

*

 

“Want to join the mile high club again?” Nicky murmured. Mark shook his head, peeling the wrapping off his packet of cheese and crackers.

“I think we've got a lifetime membership.” Mark whispered back, glancing around. First class was fairly quiet. The lights had been turned down, and most everyone else was asleep. Nicky reached out, sinking a hand into the space between Mark's thighs, not moving up, just feeling the comfort of hot skin sandwiching his fingers.

“We haven't shagged in ten hours.” Nicky said quietly, feeling the slight shake when Mark laughed.

“Disaster.”

“I'm not used to it.” Nicky whispered. “I'm having withdrawal.”

“Getting the shakes?”

“Getting hard.”

“Right, well...” Mark popped a cracker in his mouth, offered Nicky one. Nicky took one, and reached for the rather nice mojito he'd procured from the air hostess. “I'm not trying to squash in a plane toilet with you. I'm getting too old and fat.”

“I'm older than you.”

“You're getting too old.” Mark amended. “Calm down. We'll be home in about three hours, and then we can fuck in our own bed.”

“Sounds nice.” Nicky paused, sliding his hand up a little harder, pouting when Mark slapped at it. “You're such a tease.”

“You are.” Mark began to flick through the menu on the small television set into the seat in front. “Movie?”  
  
“Sex.”  
  
“Or a movie, possibly.” Mark corrected, flicking through. “I can offer you... Iron Man, Mamma Mia, Indiana Jones, or Sex and The City.”

“Oh, god, Iron Man. I'm not sitting through bloody ABBA.” Nicky wrinkled his nose. “We saw Indiana Jones, anyway. At that cinema in San Francisco when we stopped a couple of days.”

“Did we?”

“Yeah. You gave me a blowjob in the back row.”

“Oh, is that what we saw? Was it any good?”

“No, it was fucking terrible.”

“Right, well, Iron Man.” Mark shrugged, selecting the film. The screen darkened, the production credits coming up. Nicky pushed up the arm rest and leaned over to settle into his shoulder, plugging his headphones in. A kiss brushed his cheek. “Love you.”

“When we get home, I need you to fuck my mouth.” Nicky whispered, delighting in the shudder he felt run through that warm, welcoming embrace. “Want you to come down my throat, and then I want to sit on your cock.” He tugged the earbud Mark was wearing out with his teeth, sliding his tongue into his ear and feeling the shiver. “So fucking sexy.” He yanked at Mark's earlobe with his teeth, slid his hand a little higher up the boy's thigh. “Need you to fuck my mouth.” He breathed hard against damp skin, heard a soft moan. “Take it. Take me. Do whatever you like.”

“Jesus.” Mark breathed. “S'not fair.”

“It's not.” Nicky agreed. “It's not fair that I want you this much.” He slid his tongue up Mark's neck, his hand moving up a little higher. He could wait, he really could, until they got home. But that wasn't the point. Not when Mark's breath was hitching. It was the pure, simple joy of turning Mark on like this, knowing he could get him to react. It was a bit brilliant. Even at the beginning there, when Mark had been nervous as a kitten, not at all the confident, slightly kinky man he was now, he'd loved it. Getting Mark to the point where all the reticence, the uncertainty melted away. He'd been sweet and shy, totally embarrassed to ask for what he wanted, and Nicky had held him, stripped away the layers, and gotten Mark to say things, do things, that he'd never realised he'd wanted.

Because Mark had been... Nicky hated to use the word innocent, because it wasn't like Mark had been a total virgin, but there was a certain delicious naivety to him. All big eyes and uncertain hands. And Nicky had kissed him, not meant to do it at the time, had just wanted to give him a hug because he was so proud of him. For the way he'd come out, said the words they'd all suspected he was thinking. Had seen the way he was growing up in those few weeks since he'd said it, and had wanted to... he didn't know. Congratulate him, reconfirm the fact that it was all going to be fine, that he was enough. And then his lips had been right there...

He wasn't even sure he'd initiated it. Maybe Mark had, tilting his head closer like a flower to the sun, until it was a totally forgone conclusion. Until kissing Mark was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I've always wanted you.” Mark mumbled, turning in toward him, their noses rubbing together. “I've always loved you. That first time I saw you, with your terrible hair, singing Father and Son...” He shook his head. “I feel like maybe the last few years have been a dream, and I'm about to wake up and lose it all.”

“No, never.” Nicky pulled out his own headphones, the movie forgotten. “I remember the first time I fell for you.” He kissed Mark's nose, his arms wrapping around strong, broad shoulders. “You asked if I wanted a cup of tea, and I said 'no thanks'.”

“That's a terrible story.”

“It is.” Nicky nodded, ducking his head for a kiss. “But it's true. You were so young, all awkward and pale, with this massive voice that I couldn't believe could come out of someone so sweet. And you just turned to me and said “cuppa?” And I looked at you, and it was like I couldn't stop looking. Because you were...” He gestured, trying to find the words. “I don't know. And I said no, because I was frightened that if you actually made me a cup of tea I'd fall apart on the spot.”

“And how long did it take before we admitted it?”  
  
“About a year.” Nicky nibbled Mark's bottom lip, feeling hot breath brush his nose. “You weren't gay. You were just... quiet. This sweet, shy thing. And then I found out you were funny. And then I kept finding out things about you until I couldn't help it. I had to love you.”

“So I coerced you?”

Nicky shook his head. “No. You just kissed me, and it was that easy.” He kissed Mark again for emphasis. “Did you ever think we'd end up here?”

“What, not watching Iron Man while you try to shag me on a plane?”

“Exactly, yeah.” Nicky rolled his eyes. “Dickhead.”

“I don't know that I didn't think it.” Mark shrugged. “I didn't think we'd break up or anything. I just sort of took it one day at a time. He paused. “Do you know we've been married for forty-six days now?”

“Have we?”

Mark nodded, kissing his forehead. “Yeah. That's what I mean, though. Like, we could have broken up on day forty-three, or the day before the wedding, but you're still here, so why worry?”

“I guess so.” Nicky looked up, his fingers walking a trail up Mark's thigh, then up over the soft curve of his belly, felt the delicious, trembling jerk when he tickled sensitive skin. “Want to try for day forty-seven?”

“I want to make it until I'm a hundred and forty-seven.” Mark laughed, ruffling Nicky's hair. “But let's get through today first, yeah? This plane could crash, and then it won't matter anyway.”

“You really are a glass half full sort of lad, aren't you?”

“I'm an optimist.” Mark confirmed. “I need to survive, because when we get home I'm going to fuck your mouth, apparently.”

“Apparently.” Nicky agreed, plugging his earbuds in and turning back to watch Robert Downey Jr explode things, a warm, familiar hand on his thigh.

 

*

 

Kian picked them up from the airport. He laughed when Mark launched into a hug, his bags hitting the ground around the same time Kian was picked up and enveloped in a crushing embrace.

“Jesus, okay, I missed you too.” He laughed, kissing Mark's cheek. “Hey Nix.”

“Ki.” Nicky hugged him hard, felt the familiar shape of his boyfriend against him, hands on his shoulders. They couldn't do anything here, not in the middle of the airport, but it was nice to feel him, and Nicky felt himself relax, not realising he'd been tense to start with. He pecked Kian's cheek gently, then held him at arms length to appraise him, absorbing the overwhelming familiarity. “We missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Kian smiled, one of those broad, lopsided smiles that had always made Nicky's heart flutter. He might have been madly in love with Mark, but he could remember the first time he'd fallen for Kian, too. When the blonde had been playing guitar, huffing out a breath to push hair out of his face, and then he'd looked up, and Nicky had caught clear blue eyes and it had felt...

“Mark's going to fuck my mouth when we get home.” He whispered, felt Kian laugh against him. “You want to get involved?”  
  
“Why not?” Kian snorted, then went over to grab a trolley, helping them load their luggage on. “Now tell me all about the honeymoon.”

Nicky nodded, following him towards the car park.


End file.
